


Clash of the Terrible, No Good, Awful Wedding Colors

by LadyTorix



Series: Forged Medic [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Past Character Death, Post Lost Light, Slice of Life, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTorix/pseuds/LadyTorix
Summary: Minimus plans Rodimus and Thunderclash’s conjunxing ceremony.
Relationships: Background Drift/Ratchet - Relationship, Megatron/Minimus Ambus, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Minimus Ambus & Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Minimus Ambus/Calamus (OC), Rodimus | Rodimus Prime & Ultra Magnus, Rodimus/Thunderclash, background Cyclonus/Tailgate
Series: Forged Medic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864429
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Clash of the Terrible, No Good, Awful Wedding Colors

**Author's Note:**

> A Follow up to A Feeling That Won't Disappear.
> 
> Why yes, this is what Rodimus was asking about when he showed up at 5:00 AM in the last fic, why do you ask?
> 
> Written for MiniMegs week 2020 using the theme, "Disorder," because if that doesn't sum up Roddy's effect on Minimus' life then I don't know what does.
> 
> Thank you so much to my friend specspectacle for being my beta reader!

They always say it’s five o’clock somewhere, but in the here and now it was (unfortunately) 5:00 AM.

A loud rapping pulled Calamus out of sleep and he groaned, “How is it that he always shows up on our days off?”

“I think it is his outlier ability,” Minimus muttered from where he was curled up against the larger mech’s chest.

“Ah, yes--the famous, ‘’When can I be the  _ most _ annoying?’ outlier skill,” Calamus said dryly, bending down and kissing the top of Minimus’s helm, “sounds about right.”

Minimus sighed, pushing himself up into a sitting position, “I will answer the door.”

“Go use the washracks, I can handle Rodimus for 20 clicks.” Minimus made a move to object, but Calamus waved him off, “Hush, I know how much you hate not feeling put together when people show up.”

Minimus touched his cheek and gazed at him tenderly for a moment, until the knocking started up again.

“Go,” Calamus mouthed as he pulled himself off the berth.

Minimus gave him a quick peck on the lips and headed down the hallway.

* * *

He knew why Minimus agreed to this, Rodimus  _ was _ his friend, for as much as he drove poor Minimus up the wall. But still, he didn’t envy his partner’s current task. Rodimus had approached him several months ago about planning his and Thunderclash’s nuptials. With both of them being away from Cybertron the bulk of the time, it was nearly impossible for the two mechs to do so on their own.

Unfortunately, Rodimus and Thunderclash both had very... _ unique  _ tastes, and both of them were  _ extremely  _ invested in somehow getting those to mesh up in their conjunx ceremony. Calamus was pretty sure that wasn’t possible but, still, somehow Minimus had put together a few options that didn’t look like  _ complete _ slag.

Not that either of the pair were being much help, with Rodimus demanding more ‘BANG’ then their budget would allow, and Thunderclash nodding along with whoever happened to be talking at the moment.

He deeply hoped this would be the couple’s last visit until the week before the ceremony. He just wanted to be able to spend a lazy morning in bed with Minimus, without having to worry about being interrupted by unexpected visitors.

One more quartex, one more quartex, Calamus repeated silently to himself as he opened the door onto a sheepish Thunderclash, “We’re sorry for the sudden visit, er, sir.”

Calamus liked Thunderclash, at least  _ he  _ had the decency to look embarrassed when they showed up early. Rodimus, on the other servo, sauntered in like he owned the place and flopped into his normal seat, “Mornin’ Doc.”

Calamus gestured the still sheepish Thunderclash in and shut the door behind him, “Minimus will be out in a moment, is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want to impose!” Thunderclash started before being cut off by Rodimus.

“OH MY GOD, we haven’t eaten in nearly two cycles--do you have any of that blue energon stuff from last time? That stuff was the  _ SHIT. _ ”

_ “He just called that very expensive Cerulean Synth-En, ‘blue energon stuff.’ Minimus, this mech is a heathen.” _ He infused their bond with as much good humor as he could, so Minimus would know he was joking, and the warmth he felt on the other end told him he had succeeded.

_ “Oh? What happened to being able to handle Rodimus for 20 clicks?” _ Minimus teased gently,  _ “Do not worry, I will be out momentarily.” _

And indeed he was out not five clicks later, just as Calamus was handing their guests their drinks.

“I’ll be in the office, let me know if you need me,” Calamus said before kissing Minimus’s helm before heading down the hallway.

* * *

“So...whatcha doing?”

Calamus looked up from the medical report he was reading to find Rodimus leaning on the doorframe of the office. “Reading. Doesn’t Minimus need you for…?”

“Nah,” Rodimus plopped down in Minimus’s office chair and promptly started spinning in lazy little circles, “He and Thunderclash went off to pick out decorations. Thunders knows what I like. Said I was going to take a nap.”

Calamus quashed the urge to grab hold of the chair to keep it still, “What happened to the nap?”

“Got bored.”

“I’m not sure why you think you’re going to find my company any more stimulating.”

He shrugged, “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright. Ask then,” Calamus began to close the reports on his workstation. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get any more work done right this moment.

“How long have you two been bonded anyway?”

Calamus froze, eyes locked on the workstation screen. “What makes you think we’re bonded?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Yes, and you are aware two mechs can live together without bonded right? You and Thunderclash-”

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Yeah, uh huh, sure. But not Magnus, it’s just not his thing.”

Calamus sighed and turned to the other mech, “Fine. We’re bonded. What of it?”

Rodimus stopped spinning abruptly, and leaned into Calamus’s personal space, “Because I want to know why Mags didn’t tell anybody--he’s got enough of a habit isolating himself, I’m not going to let someone make it even worse!”

“Rodimus.”

“No one even knew he was dating, let alone living with someone!”

“Rodimus.”

“He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s our friend and if you’re--”

“RODIMUS!” Calamus said sharply.

Rodimus stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence and narrowed his optics at him.

“Minimus didn’t tell you because you and Thunderclash had just asked him for help planning your conjunx ceremony. He didn’t want to feel like he was stealing the spotlight from you. We’re going to do something small a few months after to celebrate,” Calamus said, his voice tinged with exasperation.

Rodimus' optics reset for a few seconds before he let out a tiny, “Oh.”

“Were you really worried that I would keep Minimus isolated?”

Rodimus shifted uncomfortably, “I just...I don’t know you. And yeah, I was worried that maybe something was going on and that’s why he hadn’t been talking to us.”

Calamus shook his head, “No, he’s just been busy. Even though they’ve finished harvesting sparks he still has a lot of things to close out before the Luna-1 facility is officially decommissioned.” He gestured to Rodimus, “What spare time he’s had has been helping arrange things for you and Thunderclash.”

“Oh,” Rodimus winced and sagged into the chair. “Um. Sorry.”

Calamus ex-vented heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s fine. From your perspective, you showed up here six months ago and suddenly one of your old friends was living with a strange mech you’d never met before. I would probably be worried too.”

When he looked back up Rodimus’ optics were wide, and he was gaping at him, “Oh my GOD.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fraggin’ Primus. It’s  _ you! _ ”

“That is usually how reality works, yes,” Calamus said in ever increasing bewilderment.

“You fucking got out of your execution and you’ve only just now turned up, what the fraggin’ hell!, Megs?!”

Oh frag. Right. Rodimus would have known Minimus’s first conjux too. “I’m not--,” Calamus started, but Rodimus continued.

“You could have at least told us!”

_ “Minimus--please, please tell me you and Thunderclash are almost done doing whatever it is you left for.”  _ Calamus pressed the thought urgently across their spark bond.

* * *

“Rodimus, I mean it. Neither of you can tell anyone about this,” Minimus said with his arms crossed, stoney expression on his face.

It had taken nearly an hour to talk Rodimus down from his conclusion that Calamus _was_ _actually_ (somehow) Megatron in a new frame, but he was still bouncing excitedly in one of their living room chairs next to Thunderclash.

“What!?! Are you kidding? Why not? Can you imagine Perceptor or Brainstorm’s response? They’d be hella interested!”

“Yes. I am sure they would be, but imagine. Rodimus,  _ imagine _ if this got back to Prowl.”

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Oh come on, what’s he going to do? Arrest an innocent mech with a spotless record--,” He stopped suddenly and frowned, “Actually, no, nevermind, he would do exactly that and say some BS about it being for the ‘public’s safety’ wouldn’t he?”

“Exactly,” Minimus agreed, nodding.

Rodimus ex-vented heavily, “Fine, alright, point taken. We won’t say anything, right Thunders?”

“Of course, you have our word, sir!” Thunderclash nodded seriously.

* * *

“So how likely are they to keep quiet?” Calamus said in the uneasy silence left behind after Rodimus and Thunderclash made their exit.

Minimus just sighed and sagged into a chair, “I have no idea. Knowing Rodimus, it will heavily depend on how much of a threat he thinks Prowl would be.”

“I’m right here, love.” Calamus knelt and gently cupped Minimus’s cheek.

Minimus sighed, smiling a little sadly, but leaned into the bigger bot’s touch all the same.

“I’ve heard the Centari Nebula’s wonderful this time of the cycle. We could take a little break from Cybertron?” Calamus offered.

Minimus shook his head, “No. No--I...Calamus, I want to stay here. In our apartment. I have traveled throughout the galaxy most of my life. I just want to be  _ here _ with  _ you _ . This is...all I ever truly wanted. A home. With my conjunx.”

“And so you shall have it as long as I have any say in the matter,” Calamus said leaning forward and kissing his helm.

“Well, that is another day over, what shall we do with the evening?”

Calamus smirked, “I can think of a few...  _ suggestions. _ ”

* * *

“Oh,  _ damn _ where did I put it?” Minimus grumbled as he tried (and failed) to look on the top shelf of one of the cabinets.

“It’s in my subspace, dear. Exactly as it was last night.”

“Right,” Minimus touched his forehead in concentration, “and the datapad for my speech at the reception?”

“You subspace.”

“The rings?”

“In with your datapad, in a secure medium sized container, as to not get easily lost.”

“Wedding gift?”

“My subspace, though I repeat, considering how much effort you’ve put into this soiree, my vote is we keep the very expensive energon that we both know Rodimus will not appreciate  _ nearly _ as much as he should.”

Minimus sighed. “Calamus.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll behave, I swear.” Calamus raised his right servo, looking solemnly at the ceiling. An effect that was completely ruined by his inability to keep a straight face while doing so.

“I feel as though there is something I am forgetting.”

“Speech, rings, gift, that glitter spray that we’re both positive we’re going to regret handing to Rodimus. It all seems accounted for.”

“Damn. The cake, we need to pick up the cake.”

“Which is why we’re leaving 4 hours early, so we can swing by the confectionary, and get to the temple with plenty of time to set up.”

Minimus sighed again, “That would seem to be everything…”

“And, if we have forgotten  _ anything _ , I can swing back and grab it,” Calamus bent down and tipped his spouse’s chin up and kissed him. “My love, you’ve prepared for this. Everything will be fine.”

Minimus leaned onto him and sighed. “Primus, it had better be.”

* * *

Well, it didn’t look tacky, and while it was certainly not to his personal tastes, Calamus was proud of Minimus. Then again, he’d have immense respect for anyone who could deal with Rodimus constantly for the past 8 months.

He swirled the energon in his cube and smiled faintly as he watched Minimus across the room skirting between several caterers, the DJ, and the newly bonded pair. Calamus wasn’t bothered by being left to himself, but he hoped Minimus would have a moment to himself soon. He knew his conjunx, and was certain he’d not refueled since before they’d left the apartment that morning.

Most of the mechs were dancing, some very, very,  _ very _ badly, Calamus mused. But he had no desire to join them. Perhaps later, on a slower song, with Minimus. He knew so few of the other mechs here.

He had seen a few of his former teachers, but beyond that, most were vague names and faces from Minimus’s memories (if he even had that to fall back on).

A little white and blue minibot was waving at him enthusiastically as he was rapidly approaching. Calamus remembered briefly meeting him on one occasion prior. What was his name? Rear End? No, that wasn’t it. Wait… Tailgate. The mech’s name was Tailgate.

* * *

_ ::We have a guest.:: _

_ ::Oh?:: _ Calamus commed sluggishly. He’d been up all night on a late shift that had dragged through most of the next day due to a series of emergencies, all he wanted to do was sleep.

:: _ Forgive me, but I’m afraid I’m going to crash as soon as I get home. It’ll be a miracle if I make it to the washrack before I collapse onto the berth, let alone manage any kind of conversation.:: _

_ ::He is very...excitable, but I am sure I can explain the circumstances to him well enough.:: _

Calamus did his best to focus his affection over their bond, but he knew he was nearly dead on his pedes, or his wings, rather. He landed with what he hoped was  _ some _ amount of grace and transformed before entering through the patio doors.

A tiny blue and white minibot was sitting on their couch, his optics brightened up noticeably when he saw Calamus. “Hi! I’m Tailgate, I know you’re tired, but it’s nice to meet you!” he said cheerfully.

Calamus gave him a tired smile and held out his servo, “It’s nice to meet you Tailgate, I’m Calamus. I apologize, but I have been on shift for nearly an entire cycle.”

“Oh! It’s okay!” Tailgate shook his servo rapidly, “Cy just had some errands he had to run, but he’ll be back soon so I won’t be here much longer anyway.”

Calamus gave Minimus a one armed hug and waved to Tailgate before heading down the hall to the washrack. The little bot was gone when he came back out. Minimus gently led him to the berth, where he was out in mere nanoclicks.

* * *

“Hi Calamus!” Tailgate said as he walked over to stand next to him. A large purple mech followed close behind in his wake. Minimus had mentioned that Tailgate had a conjunx, hadn’t he?

“Hello, Tailgate.”

“You look loads more awake now!”

Calamus chuckled, and gestured around at the party “Yes, well, good luck to anyone trying to sleep in the middle of this.”

“See, Cyclonus, this is Calamus, he’s the one I saw at Minimus’,” the minibot bounced happily on his peds, turning to Calamus, “this is my conjunx, Cyclonus!”

Cyclonus shook his hand, glancing over him, “It is good that Minimus is interacting with new people.”

“I’m afraid it may be a little generous to say ‘people’. Neither of us get out much,” Calamus chuckled. “But we’re both hoping for a bit of break once Luna-1’s been officially decommissioned.”

“Minimus’s work ethic is quite extraordinary. It is quite the task to make him stop and take a break.”

“HEY, SHORTSTACK! A blue mech yelled from the dancefloor, clicking his pincers, “GET OVER HERE AND DANCE WITH ME!”

Tailgate giggled, “That would be Whirl, I’ll be right back,” he stood on the tips of his peds and Cyclonus gave him a quick kiss before skipping over to the dancefloor.

Cyclonus smiled fondly as he watched the two dance, “So what is it you do?”

“I’m a medic, I’m currently on staff at New Iacon General in order to get some additional training, but I’ve worked on and off at private practices for the last couple of cycles as well.”

“I see, do you have a specialty?”

“No, I find it all rather fascinating, and tend to jump around. I know lots of bits and pieces but I can’t say I’m an expert on any  _ one _ thing.”

“A jack of all trades is a master of none, but often times better than a master of one, or so they say.”

“So they do.”

Cyclonus nodded across the dancefloor, where Minimus was talking to one of the caterers, “His aura is bright, and well, not carefree. He’s never been a carefree kind of mech, but less...afraid, than in the past.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.”

After a few moments of silence, Cyclonus turned to him, “Your aura is incredibly similar to someone I once knew. He and Minimus were quite close. I find it intriguing that such a similar spark has again found its way to his life.”

“Is that so?” Calamus replied nonchalantly.

The other mech raised an eyebrow ridge, “But I’m sure, being forged from Luna-1 yourself, that you are already aware of this… similarity.”

He sighed and turned to Cyclonus, “Forgive my rudeness, but what is the point of this discussion?”

Cyclonus leaned back against the wall, returning his gaze to the dancefloor, “Ah, allow me to speak in hypotheticals.”

“Hypotheticals?”

“Hypothetically, I would want to make sure that both parties in such a relationship had entered said relationship under the same pretense. Or rather, that perhaps both parties were aware of such a similarity.”

“I see. And hypothetically… why would that be?”

“Hypothetically, it seems it would put them on unequal footing, or potentially have the ability to harm either member if such a thing came out later, rather than sooner.”

“Ah, and in such a situation you would want this known out of your concern for a friend?”

Cyclonus took a sip of energon and kept his gaze forward, “Friends, I should think. Tailgate likes you.”

“I see,” Calamus cleared his intake, “In such a case, allow me to offer a different  _ hypothetical _ series of events.”

“Please do.”

“Perhaps a certain red speedster showed up on this couple’s doorstep a few months ago, and let slip a certain mech’s name, and  _ unique _ forging, or lack thereof. And  _ perhaps _ , the mech with those certain similarities had it in mind to check the public record, and if he was in the medical field himself, theoretically speaking, of course.”

“Of course.”

“He would be able to read those records and put two and two together to come to the right conclusion.”

“That would be quite interesting. Whatever do you think would  _ hypothetically  _ have happened afterwards?”

“Well, considering if both mechs respected and cared for each other immensely, then they would talk about it. And the  _ similar _ mech would be quite curious about his double, and what kind of relationship he and his current partner may have had.”

“I see.”

“Perhaps, it would turn out to be a bonding experience, instead of a conflictive one.”

“Is that so? Would you say, in such a scenario, that congratulations would be in order for the couple?”

“In a few months, after one of them has had time enough to recover from finishing a very lengthy project and another shorter, arguably more frustrating one, yes, I would say they would both be quite happy to be congratulated.”

“I am glad that such a situation could turn out to be a happy one.”

“So am I.” Calamus turned to Cyclonus, “But in such a situation, I imagine the couple would appreciate it if anyone who had reached the same conclusion were to be discreet about such a revelation.”

“I should think that would be a given.”

On the dancefloor the song ended, but another one started up immediately. Tailgate and Whirl waved at the two but started to dance with the new song.

Calamus waved and sighed after the two turned back, “May I ask you something?”

Cyclonus nodded.

“Is it really that obvious? Rodimus picked up on the same thing a few weeks ago.”

“I suppose, if you were familiar with him, it might be. However, Drift and I were only suspicious because we are both capable of seeing auras.”

Which brings us up to 4. Slag, Calamus swore internally. Or is it 5? Should he count Tailgate?

“But I doubt you have much to be concerned about,” Cyclonus continued calmly. “I suspect not many mechs knew both Minimus and our former Captain well enough to make that kind of connection. Rodimus is truly one of the very few I suspect could. As for myself and Drift,” Cyclonus smiled softly, “we’re both quite good at discretion.”

“That’s… good.”

Cyclonus put a hand on Calamus’ arm, “Besides, it’s good to see Minimus happy after all these centuries.”

* * *

Minimus cleared his intake, “Thank you all for staying and helping clean up.”

A flurry of voices assured him it was no trouble.

The party hall was clean and clear of debris behind them. Tables arranged neatly and chairs stacked to the side in orderly rows.

“Is that everything?” Thunderclash asked, looking around at the small group that had remained behind.

Drift nodded calmly, and Ratchet snorted, “Yeah, so you two better get going on your honeymoon, already!”

Thunderclash saluted and looked around, “Where is Roddy anyway?”

“Here,” Calamus said flatly, walking over to them and holding a sobbing Rodimus out in front of him.

“I’m just so-so-so,” Rodimus hiccupped, “glad you could come-,” the rest of which was drowned out by Rodimus throwing his arms around Calamus and crying into his shoulder.

“I believe he has over-energized on a considerable amount of high grade,” Calamus said with a sigh.

“Here, I’ll take him,” Thunderclash held out his arms and took Rodimus in a bridal carry. “Feels appropriate in the moment,” he grinned.

“Thunders, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“I know, Roddy, so are you,” Thunderclash continued to speak soothingly to his conjunx as he walked out the door, “Thank you everyone!”

They watched the two leave and after a brief pause Ratchet turned to Drift, “There’s no way those two are going to make it back to their ship. They’re going to end up fragging each other senseless in a alleyway, mark my words.”

“Ratty!” Drift laughed, slapping Ratchet’s shoulder pauldron.

Calamus crossed his arms, “Are you sure they’re going to make it to an alley? They nearly fragged on our doorstep one morning when we didn’t answer it fast enough.”

Ratchet let out a bark of laughter.

Minimus cleared his intake primly, “I vote we leave by  _ literally,  _ any other direction.”

* * *

“Happy to be done?”

“More relieved than happy, but yes,” Minimus let out a small sigh, but continued staring at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind, my spark?”

“We should have our own proper ceremony soon. To celebrate our conjunxing.”

“Hmm,” Calamus hummed, and pulled Minimus closer, “only if that is what you want. You know I won’t push you.”

“I know. It is just that… Rodimus was right a few months ago. I have sequestered myself off for a long time. Only Anode and Lug even knew I had moved in with someone, and even so, I did not offer up any additional details. I want to celebrate with you, and everyone, like Rodimus and Thunderclash were able to.”

“Smaller than that shindig, I hope.”

“Considerably, yes.”

“And not have our faces not plastered all over everything.”

“Oh Primus, no.”

Calamus chuckled, nuzzling Minimus’ neck, “I see, so did helping Rodimus give you some ideas?”

“More like a list of what I do  _ not _ want,” Minimus muttered.

“Well, I look forward to it. The event, and helping you plan it.”

In the dim light of their berth room he could see Minimus’ face relax, “I thought that was what you would say.”

“But for now, for the next couple of weeks, let’s enjoy  _ not _ getting woken up at 5 in the damn morning by a certain red and yellow speedster, shall we?”

Minimus let out a contented ex-vent, and snuggled up closer to Calamus’ side “That sounds wonderful.”

* * *

It was 5:03 AM.

Minimus’ com rang. He groaned and connected. Rodimus spoke on the other end.

“Uh, Mags, we kinda, sorta, need help with bail.”

Minimus sat up quickly, “Rodimus, what the frag did you do?”

“Uh… I mean, we were, uh,  _ you know _ , ya know?”

Minimus could guess.

“It was a public indecency charge, sir,” Thunderclash cut in, sheepishly.

Because of course it was.

“Rodimus. I say this with much affection, but for once, call Drift for assistance.”

“But then Ratchet will have my hide!”

“GOOD,” Calamus growled, his optics dim, but undoubtedly awake.

“Ah, slag, we woke up the bear.”

“What the frag is a bear? No, nevermind,” Calamus rolled his optics, “I don’t want to know, do I?“

“No,” Minimus agreed, “Rodimus, I have messaged Drift, he’s on his way over. Now, good night.”

Rodimus groaned loudly on the other end of the line.

“Thank you, sirs. We apologize for interrupting your rest,” Thunderclash ended the call.

Minimus laid back down next to his conjunx and they both slipped back into a blissful recharge.

(After turning off their coms, of course.)

**Author's Note:**

> Shhhh, we’re just going to pretend Ratchet got treatment earlier and lived alright? Oh, and Ratchet definitely lectured both Roddy and Thunders for a good half hour. (To be fair, they both definitely deserved it.)
> 
> You can usually find me (often literally) screaming about robots on Tumblr at [twilight-owl](http://twilight-owl.tumblr.com/) or [afterspark-podcast](https://afterspark-podcast.tumblr.com/).


End file.
